


Apprivoise-Moi

by Staleina



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Attempt at reconciliation, F/M, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Please forgive me., Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staleina/pseuds/Staleina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is post game end. Solas misses the Inquisitor dearly but can't return to her physically due to his own quest and his fear of rejection.<br/>Instead, he tries to reach her through dreams and test the waters...<br/>To see if she could ever understand.</p><p>All characters other than Solas and Lavellan have very minor roles, but I put them in the tags just in case.</p><p>I may add a third chapter at some point with some more..fluffiness, since I feel I did not do enough. We'll see :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Apprivoise Moi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karini/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has regrets, some you can fix, some you can't.
> 
> Aveliandra Lavellan  
>   
> 

The winds were cold and harsh against his skin, cutting at his flesh and freezing his tears before they could fall from his face. Each intake of breath felt like ice raking down his throat and into his lungs. Every step causing his muscles to ache as he braced against his staff for support.

He had left Skyhold behind to continue his own quest and with every mile he put between him and the fortress, between him and her, he felt a piece of himself torn from his centre. He hardly felt the pain his body was going through, the agony of his heart overshadowed it all.

The guilt he felt each time he thought of the look in her eyes when he told her he was setting their relationship aside bore deeply into his mind. How he had felt her watching him when he was not looking her way back at Skyhold. The sound she'd make once she realized she'd been holding her breath after hearing him speak. The way she grimaced the first time she came to him and he referred to her as merely the Inquisitor instead of calling her vhenan. He wanted to fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness, he wanted to throw himself at her mercy and accept whatever punishment she deemed he deserved, each lash would act as a means to beat back the self-loathing he felt for what he had done to her. _Over a thousand years and yet I still act like a fool. Where was the wisdom that age should have brought me when I needed it most?  
_

It wasn’t a moment too soon before he found the entrance to the cavern he'd been using as his temporary home in the mountainside. Far from curious eyes as he raised a hand and waved it above the fire pit, the flames igniting instantly. It wasn't until the heat brushed against his flesh that he'd realized how close he had been to having frostbite. The tips of his toes hinting that they would turn blue if he'd had stayed in the cold any longer. His distracted mind having forgotten to warm his body as he walked through the snow. Painful tingles spreading through him as he removed his pack and placed his staff against the wall by his bedroll. Such a lonely place to sleep in comparison to Skyhold, a place where he was surrounded by life, where he had even found a few that he could almost deem friends if he'd lowered his guard and let them in.

Hunkering down onto the roll, he pulled out some rations from his pack, chewing on the dried fruit bits as he looked over his limbs and carefully touched the flesh on his face, testing for frostbite. He had caught two snow rabbits, but left their limp bodies by the entrance. He would skin them and dry their meat later, for now, he needed to tend to his body. Heal the burns on his cheeks from the cold winds and repair any damage that had affected his extremities.

Lavellan would be the death of him if he kept allowing his mind to wander when he went out to hunt. He had to learn how to control his thoughts before that happened.

He would have torn the world apart if she'd asked him to, and that terrified him. The longer he'd let himself drown in the pools of her eyes, the greater risk he was at becoming her thrall and doing things they would both regret. She would see who he truly was and either reject him or kill him. He wasn't sure which would be worse.

He paused mid bite, his hands pausing over his ankle as he thought. _Perhaps...perhaps it is not who I am that is wrong, but what she knows of me. She has already accepted that the Dalish were ill informed in many respects. She may accept that they were incorrect in regards to this as well…_

An idea started to form in his mind. If he could show her the truth in a way that would not trigger her to act on instinct or automatic response. Where she would think things through rationally instead. She had shown him remarkable ability in this before, perhaps she could again. If he could finds a mean to do this without risking his own mission due to distraction this could save his humanity. Either he was forming another plan that may destroy him, or finding a means to save himself from his own destruction.

~*~

“Cheer up, Boss. Corypheus is dead! We've got plenty of time to enjoy ourselves and celebrate!” The Qunari raised his tankard towards Lavellan. A wide grin plastered on his lips and his arm draped over a small red headed elven girl. One that the Inquisitor could have sworn was supposed to be back in the kitchens based on the flour smears on her clothing and the apron that was failing to protect it.

The girl didn't seem to mind her predicament. If anything she seemed to enjoy it. The obviously intoxicated elf was burrowing into the Qunaris side, nipping at the exposed skin of his chest. Perhaps it was best she wasn't handling the food being served, since her hands may have been handling something else fairly recently judging by the overly satisfied grin on Iron Bulls face.

The short dwarf was at the table next to him, bringing down his own much after having just taken a swig of ale. “Let's hope he **stays** dead this time, Tiny.”

Lavellan sat across from them. Her drink was half full on the wood tavern table in front of her. Everyone had been celebrating for weeks. When all she wanted to do was hide in her chambers to sulk in Solasless solitude. Yet no one would leave her a moment of privacy. Any time she wasn't asleep, someone was always at her side.

The only times she could sleep were because she passed out from working herself to the point of exhaustion. That sort of sleep was never rewarding and restful, though it was better than nothing or having dreams that were without the one person she wanted to see.

Each time she fell asleep, she'd wake up to see one of her companions nearby. They would watch her as she’d peel herself from bed, get ready and then head out for a full day of work, fulfilling her duties as she was meant to until the sun would start to come down. If she was anything, she was hard working. He had taught her how to harden her heart, which allowed her to don an emotionless mask as she completed every task put before her.

The one time she did get a chance to fall asleep without them watching, was when she'd passed out drunk in the little tunnel beneath the stairway to Skyhold's entrance a fortnight after Leliana had said she could find no trace of Solas. At least that is where Varric said he had found her rambling nonsensically about broken promises, considerations, and other worlds. By the scent of her clothes when she finally woke up, it could have either been there or the stables, she wasn't entirely sure. _How can Blackwall stand smelling like that all the time?_

She was tossed about between Josephine, whom spent their time rambling on about stories of various negotiations gone awry while they discussed relations with various leaders and Leliana who would offer her embarrassing intimate details of random nobles as they mulled over information sent back to them from their various spies in the field.

She'd even been dragged about by Cullen and Cassandra, where they insisted she took part in some practice drills. It was all fun and games until she had brought out her spirit blade of course. That was when they decided that it may be best she not practice near the few Inquisition templars anymore for fear that one may reflexively smite her. The war against the mages was still all too fresh in their minds.

Varric even took it upon himself to start writing his books at her desk when she wasn't actively using it. He claimed he found her chambers quieter than the main hall, and he could get more work done without Cassandra hovering over him all the time. Certainly there were other quiet places hidden away somewhere he knew about, but then that wouldn't give him the opportunity to make sure she didn't spiral back into a drunken pit of despair again.

She knew what they were doing, even if they feigned ignorance. They were trying to keep her from overworking herself while still keeping her mind occupied.

Lavellan could hardly hear the bard’s song over the ruckus of all the tavern’s occupants, everyone was celebrating in their own way. Sera threatening the bard that if she sings 'Sera was Never' one more time she'd fill her so full of arrows she’d look like a pincushion.  _  
_

The Chargers were the loudest of the bunch, yet still they were the ones that kept some sense of order in the place. Throwing out anyone who got a bit too rowdy or “handsy” with any of the staff. Stitches was particularly protective over one of the waitresses, one with tight brown ringlets and laughing hazel eyes. He all out throttled one man in the face just before tossing him from Herald’s Rest for making a lewd remark about her honor after trying to grasp at her behind.

“I think I've had enough celebrating for awhile, Bull. I should head back to my room. Inirak is probably hungry. I should feed her before she starts clawing up my bedposts. Not to mention that some of us actually need to get some work done around here.”

“Are you telling me those weren't your nail marks? What a pity.” Dorian commented from where he was leaning against one of the support beams in the tavern. His eyes seeming to deliberately avoid looking in Bulls direction. His teasing quip lacking its usual confident tone, though he was imitating it as best he could.

Varric cleared his throat before asking  “you'll be joining us for Wicked Grace tonight though, right sweet pea?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world, Varric.” Well, she would if they'd let her, she’d rather bury herself under mounds of paperwork than catch more pitying glances from her friends. But she was fairly certain they'd set up a table in her room if she didn't go down to join them on her own. “I'll be down after my bath. I think I'm starting to smell like Blackwall.”

“I don't even think a ghoul can smell as bad as Blackwall, sweet pea.”

“I heard that,” growled the bearded man as he stepped up behind them.  A scowl clear as day on his face.

“Blackwall, there you are! You can have my seat, I was just heading out.” She got up from her spot on the bench and gestured for him to sit down. “You can even have the rest of my drink.” She half smiled at him with a shrug. It was a sad excuse of a peace offering at best.

“Thank-you, Inquisitor. No point in lettin’ it go to waste.” He grinned. “Bottoms up!” He rose the once-hers mug to the group before he tipped it back to take a deep swig and finish off what was left of the tepid ale. He slammed the mug  back down on the table before gesturing to the bar keep to send him another.

With Iron Bull having his hands both figuratively and literally full with the redhead and Varric too gentlemanly to intrude on her while she bathed; she had an opening to slip off on her own. Iron Bull wouldn't have been so easily thwarted, he would have sat at the edge of her bed while sharpening his blade, oiling his leathers or polishing his boots while he waited for her to clean up. He’d probably offer to give her a hand as well. Cheeky bugger...

“Finally!” she announced to no one in particular as she entered her chambers. Hurriedly locking the door behind her and rushing up the steps to flop onto her bed, burying her face into her soft silken pillows.

She lay there for awhile, just breathing and enjoying the moment of solitude. Her companions had been hovering over her ever since they found her sobbing, curled up in a ball and surrounded by requisition paperwork and an empty bottle of some Antivan Vintage clutched in her hand. It seemed that her friends had decided she needed constant supervision lest she do something foolish, like getting drunk and singing dirty tavern songs at the top of her lungs. Which only happened once...or twice.   _Did I really sing ‘The Desirous Dalish Daughter and the Keeper that Kept Her’? Oh Creators...Dorian will never let that one down._

It wasn't too long before she heard a mewl and felt Inirak head butt against hers, reminding Lavellan that she still needed to be fed, and soon, or the sky may begin to fall. “You’d never leave me would you.” She stroked the kitten lovingly. “Well, not while I still fed you. I imagine if you figured out where the cooks stored the fish you’d abandon me quickly enough.” She laughed to herself, imagining the kitten sitting in the middle of a fish barrel, covered in shiny scales. “At least I’d know where to find you if you ever disappeared” Inirak mewed.

Cole had given her the ragamuffin kitten a week ago. “You don't have to sleep alone” he'd said as he placed the kitten on her desk, right on top of the papers she'd been working on. A place that the kitten had decided from then on was obviously hers, particularly when Lavellan was working.

It only took a moment to feed the kitten, and Lavellan could hear her purrs of contentment even as she bathed. It felt good to get the grime off of her skin while she soaked and sorted through her own thoughts while the warm water relaxed her tense muscles.

It wasn’t long until she heard knocking at her door then saw Josephine, ever eager to take everyone for all the coin they’ve got, making her way up the stairway.

“I could have sworn I locked that door.”

“Had you really? That would explain why I had to use a key.” Josephine’s lips danced into a cheeky smile.

“You have a key to my room?” _I seriously need to look into getting a change of locks._

“Of course. It would be dreadfully tedious if I had to call for Leliana every time I had to get in. Now hurry and make yourself presentable. They’re about to start without us and I have sovereigns to win.”

~*~

It had been some time since he’d left his cave in the mountain pass and moved to lower ground where the weather was more forgiving. Though the sunny skies and warm air didn't help soothe his mind any more than harsh winds and ice when he felt so discouraged. If anything, the sights only caused him heartache as he wished that she was there beside him to enjoy the view.

He could imagine her gathering flowers and weaving them into a crown, necklace or bracelet to wear to try to coax a smile out of him. Or pointing out the various wildlife that she’d found so fascinating while finding edible berries to share with him. Berries which would colour her lips and tongue, tempting him to taste them from her mouth. He shook his head, trying to shake the images from his mind, they would be the death of him if he kept letting his mind drift and torment him with what he no longer had the right to touch.

He knelt along the stream’s edge, feeling the water running down his bare back and the warm sun kissing his skin. He scrubbed the dirt out of his shirt with a brush below the water’s surface so hard it was as if he thought the very act would scrub all his mistakes away. There was no point in putting on filthy clothes after having washed himself and he had passed the point of looking like a hobo quite some time ago.

After seeing his reflection in the waters when he’d gone to drink, something had to be done. His hair had started to grow back and he’d decided it best to let it grow. The Nightingales would have been looking for a bald elven apostate, any change of appearance would help him slip beneath their notice. But he could find no excuse to allow himself to suffer his self-imposed exile in filth. His own pride balked at the very idea of it. He’d already washed his other clothes and had them hanging out to dry in the sun. It would take some time to dry them, travel would have to wait another day.

He had tried for well over two weeks to reach Lavellan in the Fade and he could not. It was as if she’d blocked him from her mind. All he had wanted to do was skirt along the edges of her dreams and see her thoughts, to get a sense of where she was, how she felt, to make sure she was healthy and well.  
She had to be ready before he could try anything else. How could he tell when she would be if he could not get a true sense of her at all? What was all his power worth if it wouldn’t even allow him a glimpse of her face?

Her anchor still glowed like a beacon across the Fade, giving him the knowledge she was still alive, but whenever he tried to get closer to it it would drift further away. The few times he could even remotely get closer, there seemed to be a solid wall keeping him just out of arm's reach, blocking him from breaching into her dream. The little he could see of her thoughts seemed muddled, nonsensical, as if they were inebriated in some way. Reminding him much of the night after her and Iron Bull had celebrated taking down their first dragon. He had not participated in the celebration, he merely saw the after effects when he visited her that night.

Had she hardened her mind as well as her heart? Had his very words unknowingly taught her how to shield herself from him? That very thought disturbed him more than he wished. He could feel his chest clench at the very idea of her having locked herself away from him forever. It wouldn’t be the first time that his words or actions were turned against him in some unimaginable way when he least expected them to.

Fortunately he’d been able to collect various herbs during his travels, some of which could be used to amplify his dream states and presence in the Fade. They were not as potent as Lyrium, but they were far less dangerous to use and far less conspicuous to carry. The average shemlen knew little of nature, and what they did usually attributed to something basic. Which usually allowed him to come out ahead in most trading situations that involved herbs.

Solas didn’t miss the redness in the eyes of the merchant whom he had traded some blood lotus to for soap. If the merchant had any idea how easy blood lotus was to find or where to find it, he wouldn’t have been so hasty in the exchange. After all, he had collected those particular blood lotus merely 30 feet from where he met the trader.

Soap on the other hand would have been far more difficult for Solas to acquire. Particularly while wandering the wilds to avoid civilization and curious eyes. He could have made it himself of course, but these were from Val Royeaux and reminded him of her. If he could not have her arms wrapped around him, her scent would have to do.

Once he was satisfied with his cleanliness, he made his way back to his camp. Appreciative of the warm air and sunlight on his skin as he went back to work preparing the herbs for his next attempt at finding her in the dreaming. He told himself that he was merely stopping to rest and wash his clothing, nothing more. There was no harm in looking for her when he slept, that this was not delaying his journey. As long as he continued to move forward in his travels to resume his own quest West, there was no harm in it. She was not distracting him from his duty, if anything, this self indulgence was preventing her from filling his thoughts when they had to be focused elsewhere during the day. Provided he did not stay in one place for too long, nor exhaust himself with his efforts, no time would be lost.

At least that’s what he kept trying to convince himself and Wisdom was nowhere in sight to tell him otherwise. Instead, he set to preparing enough elixirs to last him for weeks while his clothing dried. He would reach her eventually, no matter how long it took.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karini's Lavellan was drawn by the talented Kaybeegtg/Girltriesgames.  
> http://girltriesgames.tumblr.com/  
> She's also got a youtube channel as Girltriesgames where she shares a lot of her game theories :)
> 
> (They're both talented artists and amazing people.)


	2. S'il Te Plait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fade is often full of surprises.

 

The Fade near the anchor’s light was thick with a dense and unnatural fog. Each step felt as if he was moving through molasses. Muddled thoughts making the air thick with the smell of barley, which filled his nose and made him grimace.

It was a bittersweet realization for him that she had dropped her guard after drinking before she slept. It lowered the walls around her heart and allowed him to slip in without her knowing. On one hand, it felt almost wrong to invade her mind unbidden, but it was the only way he could reach her and he snatched it as quickly as a pauper child steals a freshly baked pie left unguarded on a windowsill.

It took him longer than he would have liked to admit to find her in her dream and once he did he made sure to change his appearance to suit how he looked the last time she saw him, clean shaven, bald and dressed in the same garments as before.

She was standing unsteadily in the War Table room with Cullen, Josephine, Morrigan and Leliana. The fog was muffling some of the sounds, but with some effort, he could hear the words she spoke, accompanied by exaggerated hand gestures.

“You, yoooooou and your sneaky sneakiness. I know you have little birdies everywhere, their beady lil eyes watchin’ me. You tell them - tell them to keep their beaks out of my things! They think I don’t notice...but I do!” She was pointing her finger at Leliana accusingly, while the image of Leliana nodded exaggeratingly as if she’d taken the thorough scolding seriously.

Next, Lavellan turned to Josephine.

“And Ms.Rufflefluffles, I won’t have you choosing my clothes anymore. It’s bad enough THAT one -” she gestured to Leliana “keeps having the servants drop off shoes in my wardrobe to replace my other ones. I don’t need you trying to change me into some Antivan Princess! I’m DALISH! Stop it with the poofy sleeves, they make me look like a bundled up sail!”

Solas suppressed a chuckle, staying back to watch the scene unfold before him. It was a rare sight indeed to see one who was usually the definition of diplomacy to be so...adorably untactful.

“You should be dressing THAT one!” she gestured to Morrigan. “I’m used to seeing entire clans bathe together and even I’m questioning her lack of clothing. We’re surrounded by ice and snow and she’s walking around with merely a scarf to cover her chest!”

Fade Morrigan merely shrugged, accepting the slight as fact.

She then stormed over to a small stepping stool and dragged it over to place it in front of Commander Cullen. She stepped up onto it and tried her best to look imposing, even though she had to quickly reach forward to grab his shoulder for stability.

“And yoooou Mr.PuffyChestandSmolderingEyes. I’ll have you know that your cute little smile has no effect on me, even with that charming scar of yours. No no! You keep those languishing looks to yourself!” She poked him in the chest to the right of his breast plate while the image of Cullen made a dejected face at her.

Solas’ tensed slightly as he saw her hands on Cullen and heard what he could only assume was her telling Cullen to stop wooing her. Had the Commander truly tried to swoop in and take his place? His fists clenched at the thought of the shem’s hands ever touching her bare skin.

“I don’t need another knight in my life. I am the brave Knight Enchanter Lavellan!!” With that she swept the hand that was on his shoulder out in a grand gesture, as if she was introducing herself to a crowd he could not see.

Having released her grip of the Commander, she’d lost her balance as well. Solas darted forward to try to catch her but she had managed to clumsily find her footing and found herself face to face with him.

Her eyebrows shot up and her head tilted to the side as she analyzed him. He straightened slowly and made his expression as neutral as possible. He should not have interrupted her dream. Perhaps it was best to act as one of her illusions. All of which were looking in their direction, expressionless.

She stumbled closer to him, slightly uncertain before she sharply jabbed him in the chest. He strongly suspected she wanted to punch him instead, and that she deducted he must be another fabrication of hers in the Fade.

“What are yooou doing here? You who abandoned me and left my heart to rot. Used me and tossed me aside like a broken staff or shattered rune. Traded me in for that stupid ORB!”

He struggled not to flinch at her words, his body aching from the strain of fighting to stay still.

As she mentioned the orb, it appeared in her hand, cracked but holding together. She took a step away from him and held it up so he could see it more clearly. 

“How am I supposed to harden my heart into a sharpened edge when it is in PIECES!”

The orb shifted its form into that of a heart. Fractures crawling from the cracks as it broke apart in her hands. The larger pieces tumbling down onto the floor.

“You never really loved me did you? No man would do this to someone he truly loves.” She shoved the remaining crumbs and dust of what was left into his chest, pushing off of him as she turned to take a few unsteady steps away.

His hand flew up and grabbed her wrist before he could stop himself, preventing her from going any further as the pieces slid from his chest and to the floor.

“That could not be any further from the truth, ma vhenan.” _My love for you threatens to be my undoing._

“....Solas?” The thickness of the Fade started to thin, the realization of him being truly there was a sobering thought indeed.

“It is I.”

Her body stiffened. Her hand curled into a tight fist.

She did something he did not expect of her. Before he could react, she had reeled on him. Her free hand pounded into his chest. He let her hit him. He felt he deserved that blow and many more.

“You left without saying goodbye! Without giving me reason! You left me to think it was all my fault!”

Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.

“You could have been dead for all I knew!!!”

With her last admission, he found the truth behind her anger. A surge of relief broke through the surface of his grief. She had been scared he was dead, not wishing that he were. At least that was something…

He raised his other hand to stop hers from hitting him again. Grasping both her wrists and holding them tightly to his chest as she began to sob.

“You left me…”

He choked back the words he wanted to say. If only she knew how he could hardly focus on his own task while knowing that he had left her behind with not even a word good-bye. His shame for having misguided her to think that it was because of her duty that he left, not because of his own. How could he express that every step he took away from her took him apart inch by inch, leaving bits of him scattered to the wind or crushed on the ground beneath him? To tell her that now would only cause her to ask him why he hadn’t turned back. Which would require him to give her the answer he wasn't prepared to tell. She wasn't ready for the truth... _not yet._

“Ir abelas, ma vhenan. I only do what I must…” _Even if it kills me to see know you suffered due to my selfish ignorance._

Once he felt her muscles relax, he let go of her wrists. One hand moving to her back and pulling her to his chest, the other up to stroke her hair and soothe her as he cried into his shoulder.

“Are you staying? I mean...will you be coming back to stay?” Her voice sounded puzzled and pained.

He took a long breath, breathing her in before he shook his head slowly.

“No, that I cannot do. At least not for a time.”

“Then why are you here?” She pushed away from him slowly and looked at him with eyes full of questions as she wiped tears from her eyes. He could see her collecting herself, getting her emotions in check while she straightened. The tempest of emotions that had escaped her a moment before sunk into a semblance of serenity. _Ah, there she is...forever the calm after the storm._

“I needed to see you and be sure you were well. I have tried to find you in the Fade for -- it does not matter how long. I am here now.” Dare he admit how long he’d tried to reach for her? To let her know how she’d been blocking him from her mind? “I can meet with you in the Fade, if you wish it.”

She eyed him warily and as her eyes focused on him, her advisers faded from the background. The image of the war table vanished and instead they were standing in the throne room. He noted that she did not take him to her chambers, the waterfall or to the atrium. Instead, she kept them in a an area which signified her position. She did not trust him… _she will._

It stung him to know he’d lost her confidence, to be kept at such a distance. But she was right to be angry with him, she was right to be cautious. It would have been foolish to expect her to accept him back with open arms like he had done nothing wrong.

She moved to sit on her throne and looked at him while her fingers intertwined within each other tightly. Her expression guarded as she tried to grasp the situation and maintain a diplomatic air.

“You won’t just disappear again?”

“I cannot promise you that I will not. Though, if I do it is not because I wish to, but it would be to keep you safe.” _I would sacrifice my life to keep you from harm._

“But I must ask that we agree to leave our lives aside when we are here together. So long as you can agree to that, I will continue to visit.”

“What do you mean?” She shifted in her seat. She was not accustomed to now having control over negotiations and tried to hide her discomfort with the situation by playing it off as literal discomfort due to her chair.

“I will not ask you questions of your Inquisition. You do not ask me questions of my quest, since it is something I must do alone. When we are here, it is only us that matter, the world outside does not exist. This is how it must be until I can return to you physically. Once I do, I will answer any questions you have for me.” _Then, you should be ready to hear without fear._

He clasped his hands behind his back, his fingers tightened firmly around themselves. He struggled to keep his composure and stop himself from reaching out for her. It pained him to be so formal with her, to act so cold when all he wanted was to envelop his arms around her and tell her that he felt hollow without her touch.

He wanted to tell her how her face haunted him in his sleep and teased him in day dreams. How he felt like a fool for having so little control over his thoughts and emotions, how he had been slowly going crazy once he’d found she’d blocked him from her mind. The amount of times he’d howled in frustration, he dared not admit.

Her jaw tightened as she thought of his proposition. She wanted answers to all the questions that had piled up in her mind, but she did not want him to go either.

“I will agree. But what is it that you hope to accomplish with this?”

“Only to be near you, to regain your trust.” He watched her hand move to rub her chest just below her collarbone and above her heart. He knew that gesture well… _She asks her heart to be still...to hush. For everything just hurts too much..._

“And how do you plan to achieve that?”

“As one would with anything else. Patience, time and understanding.” As much as it takes to win you back.

“Where will we find this time? What will we do with it?” They were busy people after all.

“I will come to you in your dreams when I can. We will...start from the beginning. I will share with you what I have gleaned from the Fade. It is something you want is it not? To know more of our past? And in return, I will be given the chance to regain your trust.” _and your heart..._

A few moments passed while she thought about his offer. Her eyes turned up to look at him as they narrowed slightly to study his face.

“Alright. From the beginning...”

~*~

He visited her whenever he could. Of course there were nights one of them would be too busy to meet for one reason or another. Sometimes they would have only a fleeting moment, a few words passed between them before the other had to leave, but she no longer blocked him from her dreams and that gave him hope.

Over time they moved from the throne room to the gardens, where she would tend to the herbs while he told her tales of days long past, or mull over old stories from legend. She would listen attentively, sometimes stopping him only to ask a question or some clarification. He never minded when she did, it meant she was listening and willing to speak to him and he loved the sound of her voice.

She no longer looked at him with wary eyes each time he approached, though sometimes he would note that she seemed more irritable or exhausted since his last visit. Those nights he would tell her happier stories to try to pry out a smile out of her instead of ones of war and foolish mistakes.

She kept her distance. Not sitting beside him or letting him too close. Just watching his movements through the corner of her eye as he spoke while she focused on other tasks. Tasks that were at first fruitless. For anything she did in the Fade did not translate to the real garden at Skyhold, but the motions seemed to relax her. That was until he took the time to show her the delicate connections between the Fade and the physical world. How she could find the location in the Fade that coincided with the real one and how some plants lived ‘in between’ in some respects. How her tending to them in the Fade could help nurture them in reality. Using wisps to guide her hands to find the right nurturing threads and pull away anything ailing it.

It took a few months of his visits for her to finally bring them to her room in her dreams. A place where she felt most comfortable. Things had changed there. She’d rearranged the furniture so he had a place to sit by the fire and there were chairs on one of the balconies. Plenty of places to sit that were not her bed that allowed a respectable distance between them. He wasn't sure if this was merely the way she’d had it laid out within the Fade or if she’d done this in reality as well. Regardless, the message was clear: ‘I am letting you in slowly, but I am not yours’ _Patience..._

She moved to sit in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. There was a coffee table between her chair and the one she gestured for him to sit in. A cup of tea was on the table in front of her and what he could gather was merely hot cocoa in front of him along with a small plate of frilly cakes _. She remembered..._

“What tale do you have for me today?” She sipped her tea. An action really meant to pass the time than anything else. The tea would have little effect in reality.

“I wish to retell you the story of Fen’Harel and the Slow Arrow.”

“I know that one., I've heard it many times before.”

“Yes, you know the tale the Keepers tell children to scare them. To teach them to fear the Dread Wolf and his trickery. I will tell you a different version…”

She seemed slightly disappointed, but resigned herself to it. Settling further into her chair, ready to listen.

“The story as you know it is of the people asking Fen’Harel to save them from a terrible beast, but instead they found he tricked them, sent his assistance too late so that the elders were slain but the children saved.”

“He timed his arrow perfectly.”

 “They do not tell you that Fen’Harel had been helping them for a long time already. He had fought beside them in wars, lending his wolf kin to aid them in battle and protect them in their slumber. They do not tell you that he was there to fight for their freedom when it was nearly lost. That no matter how many times he tried to help them, they failed and only asked more of him while they did less. They never learned...they never progressed, they never listened.”

“But for every favor there was a cost.”

“Ah yes, a cost. For why should Fen’Harel ask for a favour in kind. He should have fought until his knuckles were red with blood and his skin hung from his bones due to starvation without ever asking for anything in return. For him to ask for food, shelter and respect was all too much. For him to ask them to change their ways so they could improve was far too great of a cost. Such a selfish one he must have been...” His tone was so bitter he could taste it on his tongue.

“You defend him as if you knew him.”

“I suppose that in a way I do. He was known for wandering the Fade as I do, gaining wisdom from spirits and looking into the past. He brought those lessons to them as well only to be turned away, as I have always been.” She never turned me away. She always listened with an open mind.

“Do you see yourself in him?”

“Perhaps.” He took a pensive sip of the cocoa, its temperature perfect to drink.

She watched him swallow before she spoke. “Their ignorance didn't excuse him for leaving them to be slaughtered if he had the power to prevent it.”

“What about their arrogance for staying in a place that they knew the beast would return? They were too stubborn to move or build proper defenses on their own. Did they think it would change its course because they willed it? They wanted someone else to come and fight their battle instead of preparing for it. Surely you must see the fault in that as well?”

“People don’t like change, or leaving their homes behind...” She fiddled with the arm of her chair, her mind drifting to think of her clans aravels. She missed them, she missed her clan. If the anchor hadn't been a part of her, she would have given it to Cassandra and returned to her home as soon as the Inquisition no longer needed her.

He took a deep breath before he continued, his eyes watching her fingers as they worked with the fabric.

“In their anger for him not doing exactly as they commanded, they spread lies of Fen’Harel. Neglecting any truth of his ever aiding them and instead they poisoned the tales of his past, tainting his actions. As he worked to try to aid them in other ways, he heard the rumors that they had spread and his hand stilled. He had had enough. So he did not intervene when the arrogant elders were slain with their lies still fresh on their lips, but he saved the da’lens who he hoped to save and show new ways.”

He shook his head and sighed.

“But in their horror they only saw a traitor before them and shunned him. They did not thank him for saving them and granting them freedom from the elders that ruled them. They spurned him with words of hate and sent him from their camps. Word spread of his perceived betrayal until all believed it and no matter where he went, he was turned aside. When he saw danger coming to his people, when he went to warn them again, they ignored his warnings. He was a liar, a betrayer, a deceiver! Why would they listen to his words of wisdom? All he could do was watch as death fell upon them again. For the gods were angry with the people for rebelling against them as well as with each other. So they brought their wrath down on them, shattering the empire and destroying their people while they continued to fight among themselves.”

“The gods?”

“You remember what we had learned in the temples do you not? You remember what I had told you of your vallaslin?”

“Of course…” Her face filled with sadness. She turned her head away from him for a moment before looking back to her cup.

“Then you know the blood writing was a mark of slavery. They were slaves to powerful elvhen and them to the gods they worshiped. That it was the elves themselves that brought down Arlathan, not the Tevinters.”

He could see her eyes trailing off as she started to put the pieces together in her mind. He pressed on.

“His heart wrenched from his chest for he could do nothing to save those that would not allow themselves to be saved by usual means. He watched with dread as they fought endless wars that would drive them to their extinction and destroyed the lands in their wake.” He closed his eyes, trying to block out the memories of the mounds of bodies piled on top of each other on battlefields. Forests set ablaze and cities ruined.

“The only option he could see before him to save his people would ultimately destroy him and change the world forever. He allowed his pride to guide him into thinking that he alone could have the answer, when he was merely a fool that should have asked for help, should have tried harder to rally the people instead of allowing him to become what they had believed him to be. A betrayer...

He locked the fighting gods away and pulled the veil down upon the world to protect all from them as well as the creatures of the Fade from the people. But by doing so, he had also destroyed so many things he loved. The Fade was cut off from the world along with much of its history and magic.”

“What happened to him? Why couldn't he try to mend the damage?”

“The tales would tell you that he was laughing and hugging himself in glee, but those tales are wrong. Having spent all of his strength doing the only thing he thought could save the people that would never thank him. He needed rest. So he locked himself away and slept in Uthenera. Hoping that in time all would heal and all would be right when he woke from his rest since the slate had been wiped clean, in a matter of speaking. Of course, nothing went according to plan.”

He shook his head

“The people lost their way in his absence and only a scattering of clans were left, with only broken bits of history between them.”

“Why would the Dalish change the story so much?”

“They were angry that they did not get their way. They misunderstood his actions and after all that had happened, much was lost, but their fear remained. You could pick any number of reasons. You are a leader yourself. You know very well how these things can happen.”

“I guess you’re right. There is so much I've done to help which seems to go wrong or is seen as wrong. I help the mages and people think I chose them because I am a mage. I exiled the Grey Wardens to keep us safe in case Corypheus tried to control them again, and people believe I've put us at risk if there is another Blight…One thing I do can be seen as wrong by some, while others right.”

“Nothing is ever black or white, only shades of grey. Rarely do good deeds go unpunished and history is often re-written by those that remain. You may be a hero now, but who knows what they will say of you in history books, if anything at all.”

She nodded in sullen agreement, her eyes drifting to the fire place for a long moment before she spoke again. He watched her, waiting...

“He sounds so alone. Misunderstood for so long, only to be turned away by those he wanted to help most. To have sacrificed everything for nothing. He could have used a friend, some kindness, love and understanding. I fear for what he could become without it. I wish I could help him.” She pulled a leg up onto her chair, resting her chin on her knee and wrapping her arm around it, pulling it to her chest as if hugging the one she was feeling sympathy for.

His eyes softened and he finally let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. A kind and loving smile forming on his lips as his eyes drank her in and he felt a gentle warmth spreading all over his skin. 

“Of that, I could not agree more." _You already have...  
_

 


End file.
